A Coward's Story
by Maxwell-Yuy
Summary: Heero tells the story of how he fell in love.


**Disclaimer:** Term papers are boring. So I broke up my research with this. Little bits written between more serious, scholarly work. And I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters.

**Note:** Special thanks to Jane Austen Girl. I did proof read, but I am very dyslexic. Good to know you've got my back )

**A Coward's Story**

**By: Maxwell-Yuy**

Loving Duo Maxwell was not something that just happened for me overnight. I mean, sure, that final realization when you know there's just no going back - that happened overnight. That happened in the blink of an eye. But loving him, well, that was something gradual. The product of years of exploring my hidden humanity and learning just how good it could feel to become close to someone.

I've heard some people say it was love at first sight. But I need to clarify something: I don't believe in love at first sight. So if you've fallen prey to Relena's rumours, forget everything she said. She's a nut-case when it's about romance. She'll bend any truth to get to the meaty gossip-potential hidden under layers of actual facts. And the fact of the matter is that I hated Duo Maxwell when I first saw him.

To be honest, no one had ever bested me before. And right off the bat, he shot me. I mean really shot me - and twice! In all my time as a soldier, I'd never been hit by a bullet. And it hurt like a son of a bitch. Not the physical pain, but the crippling blow to my ego. If it wasn't for me overhearing Doctor J. describing G's "no good scoundrel of a pilot" to someone, I'd have shot him on the spot. But his actions told me he wasn't a threat after shooting me in the unfortunate turn of events that saved Relena Darlian from certain death, and if he wasn't a threat, there was no need to take him out.

Did I think about Duo after that first encounter? You bet I did. Between mission reports and work, I daydreamed about him. About all the ways I could kill him. I mostly imagined him pale, in a sweat and struggling to stay awake after a well placed bullet to the abdomen. Don't get me wrong, I was never a bloodthirsty freak. But this was the boy who shot me - twice. And revenge is something a soldier must carefully plan, because anger gets in the way of things. I guess you could say that even back then I was drawn to him, but it was more like a beast is drawn to its prey.

But things didn't turn out the way I'd planned. The war went on, there were a few prison breaks here and there, a few stolen Gundam components, and voila! I had a friend. Correction: I begrudgingly had a friend. At the time I believe I used the term, "parasite."

So realizing I'd met the love of my life wasn't some fairy tale instant attraction hocus-pocus. But really - who believes that stuff lasts, anyway? All those fairy tales speak of couples who met and in a matter of days were whisked away to their happily ever after – to a lifetime of love and good fortune. But that "lifetime" they speak of lasts about as long as a bowel obstruction.

Real love… that comes from a deeper kind of compatibility. And I found that out by first becoming friends with my one and only love.

And yes, I know that it's practically archaic to have only one serious relationship in your entire lifetime, but you need to remember I've had a few obstacles in my life. The war, my conditioning as a soldier, and my inability to open up - which to this day only allows me to freely express emotions in the presence of a select circle of close friends from the war - were all prominent agents in holding back my... social life... as a young man.

But it's not like Duo was much different. Sure, he was outgoing and flirtatious, but I don't think he had any boyfriends before me. He'd gone out on dates, but none that lasted longer than dinner. He always complained he couldn't see a future with someone who couldn't understand the things he went through in his youth.

My point is that by the end of the wars I had four friends I knew I could mostly trust with my life - because we can't forget Wu-Fei's foray into White Fang - and out of the four, Duo had somehow become my favourite. We weren't particularly close, but we'd grown fairly comfortable with each other. At least enough not to constantly be at each other's throats. And we did have a few rare "normal" moments, where one of us would actually allow the other to help in mechanical repairs and the like, spending an afternoon elbow deep in axle grease and working together in a rhythm all of our own.

I think it was our synchronization in the garage that kept us together after the wars. There was a security in knowing that someone else knew and understood your every move before you even did it - a security neither of us thought we'd ever have. It felt good to think about a tool and suddenly have it presented within reach, or to work out a design that almost worked, and have someone else pick up and fill in the blanks for you. He was my steady backup on the battlefield and in civilian life. And in turn, I was his.

When he got a call to join the Preventers, I followed suit. I couldn't imagine living without him around. We moved to Earth together, and gave Wu-Fei the surprise of his life when I showed up beside my by then best friend. Our Chinese comrade had been trying to track me down for months. I think it just never occurred to him to check where Duo was.

Now, if you heard this story from Hilde, this is where she tells you that we got an apartment together, became partners at the Preventers Headquarters, spent all our free time together like most couples would, and one day woke up to the realization that we were practically married and had always been madly in love with each other. Often she'll throw in a very dirty session of the two of us wrestling around various parts of our apartment naked. But I'll let you in on a secret: I think Hilde was dropped as a baby.

Duo and I got separate apartments in the same city. If you don't believe me, I have a file with my lease agreement to prove it. And while most people wouldn't know that I lived on the East side back then unless they read my files, everyone knows Duo lived on the South side.

The only part of Hilde's version of the story that's true is the part where we were partnered at Preventers. And even Une will agree that the decision to pair us together was because neither of us trusted the rookies to cover our backs. We were put into fieldwork because we didn't need training, and they needed good people fast. We even had it added into our contracts that we would not, under any circumstance, work the field with someone we didn't expressly trust and approve of - and Une understood what it meant when she added the clause into our agreements.

But it slipped my mind that Wu-Fei was also a Preventer.

Now I need to make something clear: I trust Wu-Fei. Since the end of the last war I've trusted him completely, and I trust him to always have my back and Duo's, but it didn't stop me from worrying when the two of them left on a mission without me. I never worried about Fei. His ability to always be level headed and to take calculated risks ensured safety above all else. He wasn't the kind to put himself in danger unless it was necessary.

Duo, on the other hand, gives "calculated" a new meaning.

Sure, his reckless behavior was effective in the field, but everything he did seemed to up the risk of injury or property damage. And when he was with Wu-Fei, things usually transpired in a way that prevented the Chinese man from talking Duo out of doing something risky.

It was during one of their missions together that I got a wake up call. A most literal wake up call. It was 3:17 in the morning on a Wednesday, the 17th of April, AC 124 when my vid phone rang. I answered it in my pajama pants. And in my sleepiness, I heard the three most horrible words in the English language: next of kin.

That was when I woke up, and every thought I could possible have left my head. And then the dam broke and the questions raced into my skull until it was so full I thought it would explode.

Next of kin? Yes, I was next of kin to Duo Maxwell. Why was that a valid question? Couldn't he tell them that? Why wasn't he on the phone? Was Duo okay? Who did the person on the line say he was? Hospital? What happened? Was Duo okay? What time was it? Which hospital? Would he be okay? Would Duo be okay? Was he dead?

Finally, one question surfaced above the others. I'm pretty sure I interrupted the man on the phone. "Which hospital?"

I hung up after the man gave me the answer and cursed to myself. It would be a long drive. But I quickly realized that while in a daze on the phone, I'd thrown on some boots and a shirt, so I grabbed my keys and a jacket by the door and dashed down the stairs to my car. I knew my door would lock itself when it closed. And I knew I could navigate the dangers of running down eight flights of stairs in unlaced boots.

It was in the car, during the longest three-hour drive of my life, that I finally realized Wu-Fei might also be in hurt. My concern for Duo was so strong it preoccupied me for 30 minutes before I realized my Chinese friend could also be in bad shape. He would have called me if he was okay, right? I am not his next of kin. I would not get the call if Fei went down in the field. For all I knew, he could be dead. And there was something unsettling and hollow about that.

When I arrived at the hospital the mad look in my eyes told the staff to give me anything I asked for in the fastest way possible. The nurses at the entrance were all too eager to send me on my way to the third floor. Patients and doctors alike recoiled as I swept through the building like a raging storm. I needed to find Duo. And Wu-Fei. And kill the Chinese man for letting things get so far out of control.

The stairwell door slammed open as I ran down the main hall, made note of the room numbers, and turned at the second hall to the left - only to see Wu-Fei. He was sitting in one of five chairs lining the middle of the hall. His face was in his hands and his elbows were propped on his knees. I had the distinct urge to attack him until he looked up at me.

Never in my life did I think I would see my stubborn, honorable, tough-guy friend with red eyes and tear stains running down his face. My anger immediately dissolved and was replaced with abject horror. He stood, albeit shakily. It was only then I noticed the cast on his leg, and all the other minor and abundant injuries. It felt like we stared at each other like that forever.

"Heero."

His voice was choked. He'd been sitting there in that state for a long time. That one word from him told me more about his condition, both physical and mental, than reading his charts would. I understood why he did not call me himself.

"Duo. He's... he-" I wanted him to spit it out, but at the same time I was more scared than I'd ever been, wondering if the worst had happened. "Duo just got out of surgery. It doesn't... it doesn't look good. Not at all." I recalled the room number the nurses gave me and had turned to find it when I felt a hand grasping my arm. I looked back at my grief stricken friend. "Brace yourself," he said. "He coded three times on the operating table." My blood ran cold as the look in his eyes grew hot. "I got the son of a bitch who did this."

I could tell he was seeking my approval. Looking for an out - so he didn't have to blame himself for whatever had transpired. I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. "I know, Wu-Fei. I never doubted it."

It was a lie, partly. But it was necessary. I had doubted him while on my way to the hospital, but if I'd taken the time to really think about it, I'd have known that Wu-Fei would give his life for Duo. And anything that happened to Duo under his watch was undoubtedly unavoidable. I left him standing there and opened the door to Duo's room without hesitation.

And then I saw him.

It was like a dream. It couldn't have been real.

His skin was a sickly pale grey and a fine sweat clung to his brow. I recognized a morphine drip and vaguely wondered why his brow was still furrowed in pain. I saw nasty looking stitches on the side of his face near his hairline, his arms, and one on a part of his chest just between the neck and shoulder that was showing beneath his skewed hospital gown.

My feet moved on their own accord, and the closer I got the clearer his situation became. A huge bandage was wrapped around his mid section, mostly hidden by a blanket. Without realizing it I picked up his chart and glanced at it. My heart stopped.

"Bullet to the stomach" was one of several injuries listed.

Suddenly my childish dreams of enacting revenge against the boy who once shot me flooded back into mind, and a voice in my head started screaming that I never really wanted this to happen. That it was a joke, one from a very long time ago, before I even got to know him, and this was a coincidence.

But the reality of the situation made it hard for the small unreasonable part of my mind, the one that rarely shows itself, to stay hidden. And I began to wonder if unspoken thoughts alone could shape the future.

The machines attached to him were too much to handle, and at some point I found myself kneeling on the floor next to his bed, clutching onto his hand like it was my own life support, and vaguely wondering why hot, salty water was streaming down my face. A lot of things were vague that night. But there are four clear moments that will say with me forever.

The phone call.

Seeing Wu-Fei so vulnerable and broken.

Duo, in that bed, looking small, weak, and half dead.

And the shock when I held his hand so tightly and whispered, "Don't die. I love you."

All my pain was gone in that instant. And I felt a large weight I'd never noticed lift off my shoulders. But that weightless moment was brief. Because the one person who made me feel alive was probably going to die and never wake up.

Quatre has claimed he felt the torrent of emotions bursting out of me at that moment, but there's no evidence to substantiate the claim. He also says that Duo could hear me, and that my revelation gave him the strength to pull through. But that, too, cannot be confirmed. When he finally awoke, he couldn't remember anything after passing out in the field to the sound of Wu-Fei's scared but reassuring voice.

I've yet to thank him for comforting Duo in what could have been his last moments. I'll remedy that soon.

This next bit is the part of the story everyone has right: No matter who's telling the tale, they are all in agreement that I am the world's biggest idiot for not telling Duo about my feelings when he woke up.

Relena will sadly mention how my training royally messed with my head, and I couldn't help keeping my feelings to myself, because I didn't know any better. She acquaints it to getting mad at a child for sticking his hand on a hot stove. Quatre blames my insecurities, rightfully stating that I while I was brave enough to risk my life countless times in helping to save the world twice, I wasn't brave enough to risk my heart once.

But the others are not so kind. To this day, Zechs still calls me "Bowls," which has been slang on Mars for "village idiot" ever since someone unearthed very old films with "movie martians" wearing fish bowls on their heads to protect them from the harsh atmosphere.

Hilde's colourful language, though spoken kindly, is not the kind I would repeat.

Trowa, the one time he spoke on the matter, started yelling in French. I'd never even heard him speak his native language before.

Shortly after Duo was out of the woods and well on his way to recovery, Trowa sat in on a small argument between Quatre and I about whether or not I should say anything to the braided one about my newfound feelings. My French is not very good, but I understood him. He rambled along the lines of asking me what my problem was, declaring unbridled frustration at my stupidity, and saying something like "give him a break."

But I would ignore my friends and hold my tongue a while longer. Too long, really.

In my attempt to make it certain that nothing had changed between us because of my sudden revelation, I unconsciously began to alter my behavior around Duo. Staying "normal" and "casual" became a goal that never left my mind. But ultimately I began seeing less and less of him.

I started to think that I spent too much time with him. That "normal" friends only spent a certain amount of hours a day together, and since the workday more than covered that quota, I began blowing off the things we usually did outside of the office. I cut down our dinners out from three times a week to once. And it was never on a weekend. I found excuses not to tag along when he made trips to see Quatre and Trowa for a few days. I became stiff when he hugged me. I no longer bought him an extra tea in the morning when I got my own.

I thought I was being normal. Casual.

I thought I was maintaining status quo.

I thought I was being a regular, good friend.

I didn't think I was ignoring him enough to drive him away from me.

For over three months it went on like that. The gradual distance separating us was growing every week. I was blinded to the hurt in his eyes. And because of that, it was like being hit on the head with a brick when he quietly told me he was transferring to another office. I was so conflicted I didn't know what to say. So I didn't react at all. Not the smartest move on my part, since Duo seemed to take it as a sign of indifference, and simply let out a forlorn sigh and left to go home for the day.

When I finally figured out what to say it was the following morning. By then, his desk was cleared. He'd actually waited to tell me until the last moment. I read the contract we signed. Any and all permanent office transfers have a two-week notice period. He'd known for two weeks. And didn't say a word. He didn't even say goodbye.

I took the morning off and went to his apartment. It was vacant. I was overcome with the feeling that he didn't want me anymore. Why else would he leave without saying goodbye?

I was stupid to love him, I thought. Stupid because someone like him would never need anyone like me, let alone want me around. While we were the same on many levels, we were completely different people. He must have felt I was holding him back. He must have realized that spending all of his time with me was keeping him from having any real relationships. And I always knew that he wanted to be with someone in a stable, loving relationship - even if he would never admit it. It was clear in his eyes when we were with happy couples and he'd turn and look at me. One look from him told me he felt a big part of his life was empty. And it was obvious which part he meant.

So Duo had finally gone off to find something to fill that void. Part of me was happy for him, but most of me felt like retreating back to my apartment to lick my wounds. It felt less like he'd transferred at work, and more like he left me. And I was taking it hard. Hard, and southern, and straight up. Because that was Duo's way to drink. And by the time I stumbled out of the bar two blocks from my building, barely able to walk from the Bourbon, Whiskey, and Southern Comfort settling in my system, all I could think about was him. I tried to curse the alcohol for failing me in ridding my thoughts of that braided boy, but I'm sure the words were slurred and mumbled beyond recognition.

And of course, to top it all off, Wu-Fei was sitting on the steps to my building.

I don't quite remember how I got upstairs, but I remember him saying "look what you've done, now" before I completely collapsed.

I woke up lying on top of my covers, askew on my bed, with a distinctly sharp pain in my waist. In a fog, I eventually began to wonder why my waist would be hurting instead of my stomach, side, or back. My first attempt to roll over landed a sharp, jabbing pain in my waist again. It took a few moments to realize my belt was on far too tight. Slowly, I unbuckled the belt and felt a relief wash over me when the pressure on my mid section was removed. I vaguely noted that my tie was gone, but at the moment it didn't matter. How I got that way wasn't even a question in my mind. My need for a glass of water was overriding any other thoughts.

In a blur I walked into the kitchen and nearly jumped out of my skin. Wu-Fei was seated at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper with one hand and sipping a cup of coffee in other. Now, Wu-Fei will use this part of the story to make fun of me and declare I was losing my touch as a soldier and becoming a real person - after all, the perfect soldier would never be startled in such a way. But it's just not true. While I did become more of a "real person" as Duo slowly coerced it out of me, I never lost my reflexes or my soldier's instincts. But I was, without a doubt, drunk out of my mind the night before. And the fact that I was able to walk and think was a miracle in itself. Proof, to me, that the skills of my rogue days never faded.

In any event, I got the lecture of my life that morning. It wasn't like when the crazy old professor would lecture me on performance and tactics. It wasn't even like Duo's short lectures on loosening up a bit. It was a completely casual conversation, held in my kitchen. He even got me water, coffee, and toast before he began. But it was the fire in his eyes that froze me in place. It was that look, a mix of anger, sadness, and envy, that made his words flame.

He informed me of what an idiot I'd been, but that it was expected with my inability to fully understand human behavior just yet.

He ordered me to call Duo and make up for whatever I did wrong.

He told me I should have enjoyed what I had before it was gone.

He accused me of being a coward, for not fighting for what I "so clearly" wanted.

He pleaded with me, with that emotion I only ever see in his eyes when he's thinking about his wife, to not let happiness elude me just because I've jumped the gun and assumed it won't be mine.

And he warned me, with distinct deadliness, that if I ever hurt his brother again, he would kill me. And that this time, I got off lucky, and that the sores from the belt would fade by mid afternoon.

Part of me was pissed about the belt-torture. I knew just who he learned that trick from. It was the same person he meant when he said "brother." Because for all their bickering and teasing, Duo and Wu-Fei had become close enough to adopt each other as family. But I wondered how transparent I was, and if it was so obvious that I loved him, why didn't Duo know. I hadn't realized I'd said it aloud until Wu-Fei, on his way out the door, turned to say, "He doesn't know because he's scared you don't love him back."

And my head was spinning. And the door clicked shut. And while I understood just what those words implied, I would again take the stupid route and assume I was hearing things. But the idea that Duo might love me back still floated in my mind.

So when a week later I got a call from him, my first instinct was to tell him that I loved him.

But of course I didn't.

"Brave in battle, a coward in the heart" were the words Une used. Yeah. Une. She was, apparently, also aware of the situation. It was like everyone who knew one of us understood that the friendship between me and that braided baka was deeper than we let on. I recall Howard once talking to me as though I was going to be his honorary son-in-law in a few years. But that's beside the point.

Eight months passed since my partner left. Duo and I had gotten into the habit of talking every day online, or texting each other on the phone. Never did we actually call one another. That was too personal. It was an unspoken taboo. Still, sometimes we wouldn't talk for a few days. We'd get busy, swamped with paper work, sent out on fieldwork, or there just wouldn't be time. So when I hadn't seen him online for a little over a week, I began to worry.

We he okay?

I wasn't about to contact him to ask, because that would look needy - so I did a little hacking. And again, my heart stopped. Duo causes it to stop quite frequently now that I think about it.

But in any event, I was crushed. I hurt in ways I didn't know were possible. Because Duo, my Duo, was dating someone. Some guy named Brad. For over a week, now. And I got to read every detail about the date where they first kissed on Brad's damned blog. What the hell kind of name is Brad, anyway? Sounds pretty flakey to me. Stupid even. Like he couldn't hold a conversation about anything other than sports or beer. Brad. Fucking Brad. I hate that name. That one syllable is like poison to my ears. Brad. How could Duo go for the blogging type? Blogs are for the weak. God damned Brad.

At first I was hurt. Undeniably, unbelievably hurt. I went to the gym and ran 15 miles. I felt better, but still I felt like he had stabbed me in the heart. Who was I to judge? It's not like our relationship existed. It's not like we had any verbal agreement that we wanted to be together. It's not like he was cheating on me. And yet it broke me. Because he didn't tell me. And I thought we were closer than that.

I confessed my thoughts to my closest friends. I quickly realized that speaking to Relena was a bad idea. Not because she's a horrible person - once she stopped stalking and obsessing over me we became good friends. But it was a bad idea because Relena goes a little overboard at times. She became furious with Duo for "having done this" to me. And though she denies it now, she advised me to "forget all about that braided boy."

But I could never do that.

Quatre, Trowa, and Wu-Fei all agreed that I should just talk to him. But I wasn't going to breech that topic until he did. So I waited. And I thought.

A day or two later, I realized that no matter how much I loved him, I wanted Duo to be happy. But I wasn't going to sacrifice myself for it to happen. Wu-Fei told me to fight for what I wanted, and I wasn't going to let the opportunity to be with him pass me by because I was too chicken to try. All I had to do was try.

That wouldn't be hard, right?

Except he was seeing someone. And he hadn't told me.

The following night he logged online. I consciously started with a kind of "long time, no see" greeting. He said he'd had a crazy week. Given the opening, I asked what was so crazy about it.

He immediately outlined all the details of his job. Part of me was disappointed that he was refraining from hitting on the subject I wanted to hear about. The subject I was afraid to hear about. I hesitated before responding, not wanting to veer too much from talking about the last week, when another message was sent.

He told me he was trying to be in a relationship with someone he had very little in common with.

And he was unhappy.

"Very little in common." My heart soared. I played the concerned friend. I cheered him up. And then he said something. Something I'll never forget. He told me that he realized why he was in such a funk lately: because he hadn't talked to me. Eight days. Just eight days without talking to me, and he became depressed. I understood something then. I understood that he needed me, just as I needed him. And even if it wasn't in a romantic way, he cared deeply for me.

And I knew what I had to do.

I had to try. Just... try.

Just about everyone else who tells this story is in agreement that following that conversation with Duo, my whole attitude changed. I'll admit it felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I no longer felt the pressure of how to tell him, or the stress and anxiety that came with needing him to love me back. Because frankly, I'd reached a point where I realized that love can't be forced. And he definitely already loved me, even if it wasn't romantic at the moment. And I was just happy to know him. Happy to have him as a part of my life, and enjoy him while he was around.

But that's my side of the story. Everyone else says I was glowing, gliding through the office, humming while working, and acting decisively not like myself. I could actually be seen with a small smile on my face from time to time, and it caused several collisions in the hall outside my open office door. A few brave people actually asked me if something was wrong. But to be honest, I don't know why something would have to be wrong for me to smile.

The next night Duo and I talked for six hours. And it was like realizing I was in love all over again. And one more day later, he told me he broke up with Brad. And he was glad about it. My future was looking good - _our _future was looking good. Together or not, it was ours.

But then it happened.

If I'd known, if I'd even had the slightest of clues, I'd have said or done something sooner. I'd have begged him to come home and partner with me again. But no one saw it coming. No one anticipated the destruction of the Western European Preventers Headquarters. And it was gruesome.

It was on the news faster than the Preventers channels could relay the information on their intranet. As I watched the replays of the explosion - the total annihilation of the building where Duo worked, a numbness came over me like none I'd ever known.

Before Wu-Fei ditched his meeting to check on me, I'd secured the fastest high-security jet Preventers had to offer, and was en route to our air base just outside of the city. I would find my best friend. I had a mission.

Duo was probably dead. And I never told him.

I arrived in Western Europe in two hours. I have never told anyone the details of those two hours, and I'm not going to start now. This is the one part of the story no one else has speculations about. No one's dared to guess what went on during that flight, because everyone who tells the story wants to remain alive.

I suggest you honor my privacy for your own well being.

When I got there all hope of finding Duo was dashed. Almost the entire site was leveled by the blast. The bodies pulled from the rubble were mostly of the dead. There was no system for listing survivors. But there was one thing: the blast occurred early in the morning. Many agents hadn't made it to their offices yet. I called Duo's cell, but it went right to voicemail. That meant it was off, or blown to bits.

I didn't bother to check at his apartment. If he wasn't in his office when the explosion went off, he would absolutely be in the rubble now, searching for survivors. So I began my mission. And while I knew it was selfish to be so focused on finding a single person instead of helping everyone, I didn't care. There was a huge emergency staff on site. And I only needed to find Duo. Everything else could wait.

Reports were rampant. I heard a great many things about that morning. But the truth was surfacing. There was no attack. There were maybe 500 people inside. A gas line blew. Faulty engineering. That's all.

For any conspiracy theorists who still believe what the news originally told them about "terrorists" and bombs… you are dead wrong. I checked out the site. I looked at the building plans. And someone had even filed a complaint about smelling gas before the disaster - but it had not yet been checked into.

One hundred and twelve people were confirmed dead. Two hundred still missing. That meant there were more survivors than it appeared. Which meant I had a slightly better chance of finding Duo than I'd anticipated.

The chaos was overbearing. And over an hour into my search, my heart stopped again. As it always does. And I was graced with the most beautiful vision I'd ever seen: Duo, covered in dirt and soot, tearing through rubble and commanding the people around him in an effort to extract someone from under part of a wall that had come down. It was so dangerous among the ruins, and yet he worked with such determination I could see it written clearly in his posture and his hand gestures from afar.

In all the chaos and noise, he couldn't have heard me as I raced towards him from behind. And somehow, when I startled him with a big bear hug from behind, he knew it was me. He couldn't even see me, and yet he breathed my name and struggled free to embrace me properly.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of sorting through rubble. But I remember that we rescued twenty seven people that day, and pulled the bodies of another fourteen.

And I still hadn't told him.

It didn't seem right, with all that suffering around us. But it was going to happen, and it was going to happen very, very soon.

And here is where the story diverges again, depending on who is telling the tale. Relena, Noin, Hilde and Sally insist that upon seeing Duo I should have whisked him into a spinning hug, lifting him off the ground, and setting him down to plant a firm kiss on his lips. They coo about it being romantic. They scowl while informing me how unromantic and "purely male" I am. And then they go ahead and tell everyone they know about how I whisked Duo into a spinning hug, lifting him off the ground, and then set him down to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

Girls.

I'll never fully understand them.

Dorothy and Une are much more reasonable... for women. While they agree that kissing Duo on the spot would have made for a memorable moment, they also agree the timing was a little off. But they still don't tell the truth. They say that after some time of working tirelessly to free survivors, I pulled Duo aside, looked him in the eyes, told him how much he meant to me, and how happy I was that he was alive, and we stared into each other's eyes and met for a tender kiss amid the chaos.

Lies. All lies. I can't tell you enough how annoying it is.

But the men? The men tell it pretty close to the truth. They'll say I stole Preventers property, hightailed it to the scene, and came home happier than they'd ever seen me. And that's about right, excluding the details.

Duo and I worked well into the night, and freed more people than any other search and rescue team. It wasn't because we were particularly better than the professionals, but rather that our experience as Gundam pilots taught us how to work under high stress and extreme fatigue without so much as blinking. No other crews pulled the hours we did - and rightfully so. One slip up could cause whole parts of the wreck to tumble over. But it would be a lie to say we didn't collapse onto Duo's bed once we got back to his place.

No, you pervert, it wasn't like that. It was assumed I was staying with him, and as best friends and partners in the last two wars, we were used to sharing a bed. It was always platonic, with the ease I guess a parent and a small child would feel sleeping near one another.

I could have gone right to sleep. And so could Duo. But we both sensed there was something that needed to be said. I just don't think he expected my part of it.

Laying side by side, staring at the ceiling and feeling that tingling sensation that comes over your body when you're lying down for the first time after a physically tiring day, Duo was the first to speak. His voice was soft and emotional. "Thanks, 'Ro," he said. "Thanks for coming to find me. For making sure I'm okay."

I could feel his timid smile without looking at his face. I wasn't quite sure why there was a hint of surprise in his voice when he'd spoken. "Why?" I asked in an equally soft voice, "did you ever expect anything less?"

I expected him to tense up, but he didn't. He just continued to stare at the ceiling in the dark. But I didn't have to wait too long for his answer. "It's just that I've never had anyone care enough to go to such great lengths for me." My heart constricted as he whispered, "Not since Solo died."

I turned on my side and he looked away from me. Gently, I reached out and touched the side of his face, turning him to look me in the eyes. I wasn't smiling. I was dead serious, and I think he knew it because he had this great uncertainty and anticipation in his eyes. "You are worth it ten times over," I began. I was surprised at how strong my voice was. Not that I was loud, but that I thought I would be nervous. I was dumb. How could I be so nervous telling my best friend the truth? But the next part was the clincher. The part I still can't believe I was so calm saying.

As he smiled sweetly at my first declaration, a small part of my mind begged him to smile broadly at the next. "You should know I would do anything for you. I love you, Duo." In the half second it took for me to take another breath, I saw the look in his eyes change. "I really, really love you," I declared, and leaned over my shocked friend to place a chaste, small kiss on his lips. It was short, it had no fire, but it was symbolic.

And he wasn't smiling.

Not quite frowning, but certainly not smiling. I could suddenly feel that nervousness I expected to have moments before. It was flooding across me. Filling me up with the sound of my pulse.

And then he smiled. It was a smile I'd never seen before, and it was stunning. A hand was gently playing with my hair, and I realized he had turned on his side to face me. I got lost in that touch. I closed my eyes and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Heero." He was speaking. His voice was calm and resolved, and my eyes opened to look at his. He was so close I could feel his breath on my lips. "What took us so long?"

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Wow. I got a lot if hits a no reviews. Just proves I can't do fluff. Guess I'll have to stick to the action-adventure stuff.


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